Lips as red as blood
by The madness in me
Summary: The queen checked her reflection in the mirror, taking comfort in the sight of it as the snow fell in heavy sheets outside. In the forest the girl waited, the girl with skin white as snow, hair black as ebony and lips red as fresh drawn blood. (Dark snow white)


The queen moved quietly though the halls of the castle, her precious mirror clutched tightly in her grasp. Every so often she would raise the looking glass to gaze desperately at her own reflection, constantly relieved at the sight of it.

Outside the window snow fell in heavy sheets covering the kingdom in an icy blanket and although fires were lit throughout the many rooms of this fortress the queen still shivered at the sight of it. The pure unblemished white of the blizzard bringing to mind a face; a face white as snow made even more striking by hair black as ebony and lips... lips as red as fresh drawn blood.

She clutched the gilded handle of her mirror tighter, raising it again to look at her reflection in the cold glass. That girl was doing everything in her power to take her kingdom, every day more and more was lost.

But she still had her reflection. If nothing else, she still had that.

A knock at the door startled the queen from her distraction and she quickly raised the mirror to check behind her before turning, seeing in the glass a tall rough looking man stood waiting by the entrance of the room. Satisfied by this, she turned to look at him directly.

"You are the huntsman I called for?"

"Yes my queen" He bowed

"Good, I have a task for you"

Her instructions were brief and precise though far from easy; he was to go to the forest, find the girl white as snow and drive a dagger through her heart.

She provided the dagger.

The handle was oak bound in leather, the blade long and sharp; pure silver.

He took it in a firm grip, testing the weight. The ease of his movements showing her he was familiar with such a weapon. The queen smiled, confident she had chosen her assassin well.

He bowed again "Yes my queen"

...

The huntsman moved cautiously through the forest, pulling his coat tighter against the cold. The world around him was cloaked in white and it send a chill through the man's heart. He clutched the dagger tightly in his grip, poised and ready.

He was a few days into his mission and the trail was as cold as the air about him.

The gravity of his task was not lost on the hunter.

He was hunting _her_ in _her_ forest and to make it worse he was hunting in the snow. The snow was hers as well, _her_ domain, she was never more deadly than in the snow.

Twigs and leaves crunched under his feet with every step. Behind him a trail of dark footprints marked his path for just a few yards before the continuing blizzard covered them over, leaving no indication that he had ever passed through.

He could feel eyes watching him and tried to see them but knew they could be anywhere. This forest was full of animals, animals that ran and crawled and flew and they were all _hers_.

Her pets. Her spies.

From the distance the shrieking howl of a wolf pierced the air. The huntsman froze in place, his heart beating rapidly as the howl echoed through the trees giving the impression of his being surrounded. When finally the sound ceased his uneasiness kept him rooted to the spot.

For several minutes the hunter waited in silence, and even the wind which had previously whistled through the trees with an eerie moan seemed to fall quite. The snow continued to fall and as he stood, frozen in place like the forest surrounding him it began to pile up around his feet until eventually the fear of actually freezing in place was enough to break him from his stupor.

Taking another cautious step forward he glanced anxiously around looking for any sign of movement or life.

He moved his feet carefully forwards, the harsh crunch of each step now sounding louder than ever. Without warning he felt a large twig snap beneath his boot and his gaze dropped quickly toward the sound. Dagger raised in defence. Whilst his eyes remained downcast, trying to decide where best to move next to avoid a further misstep, his ears listened attentively for any other sound of movement besides his own.

Silence.

So when he next looked up towards his path, the hunter was shocked to find a face, pale as snow just a hair breadth from his own. A breath was drawn, harsh and sharp in the cold air, but a moment later any scream that might have burst forth was cut short.

...

From the depths of the trees seven shadowy figures moved together, eyes hazy and barely focused, knowing nothing but their mistresses will. They gathered around the fallen huntsman, hefting him up into their arms and carrying him away into the forest. Off to where a young man was beginning to stir, drawn from the eternal slumber by the girls unholy kiss.

He would be hungry when he woke.

...

The queen paced the floor of her castle, anxious for news of the huntsman's pursuit.

A knock at the door startled her from her distraction and she quickly raised the mirror to check behind her before turning. She saw nothing in the glass.

She turned.

There, where the huntsman had stood waiting for her instruction just days before, when she had set him his task, now stood a figure that haunted the queens nightmares.

"Hello stepmother"

With a sickening smile the girl stepped forward.

"You were kind enough to send me a gift; a treat to sink my teeth into, ripe and sweet and delicious, so I thought I would return the favour"

From behind her back the girl drew a box, placing it on a table. The queen despite her fear cautiously stepped forward to open it. As soon as the contents were revealed however she withdrew in horror, for Inside the box was a heart. She knew it was the huntsman's. Cut from his chest with the very dagger she had gifted him to pierce the heart of the demon before her.

She turned her back on the girl and lifted the mirror again seeing her own reflection. Hers was the only reflection there. It always had been. Since the day she had fist encountered this girl. First stood beside her at the looking glass and seen the truth of her.

This snow white witch.

The feel of cold breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine.

She stared at her own reflection letting that be her only focus. Her only comfort.

The pain came without warning. In her mirror she saw the blood pool and blossom at the wounds. Then came a sight so frightening it made her own skin pale until it was white as snow; there in the mirror was the first image she had ever seen of this child reflected in the glass; for floating above her neck was a slick, shining set of freshly painted blood red lips.


End file.
